


Diamond Heart

by artemisgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisgirl/pseuds/artemisgirl
Summary: When Hermione approaches Draco Malfoy proposing a fake relationship between the two of them as part of a scheme, he's eager enough to participate -- the potential benefits outweigh any costs on his time. But as it all progresses, Draco finds himself wondering what it would be like if what was 'fake' was real.





	Diamond Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I had Trope #5 -- Fake Relationship. I hope everyone likes my offering. Happy Halloween Fest, everybody! :)

“You need me to… pretend I like you?”

Draco Malfoy didn’t have to pretend to be caught off-guard. He very much was. The last thing he’d expected from the “business proposal” appointment his secretary had scratched into his calendar had been Hermione Granger sweeping in with a plan. He’d expected a meeting with someone about cleaning all the mud from the carpet, perhaps – November always meant mud.

“I need you to pretend we’re dating,” Hermione corrected. “The scheme will hinge on the public believing that you’re very fond of me, and that we’re heading toward engagement.”

“And this is so you can wear diamonds?” Draco said, blinking.

“Exactly!” Hermione beamed.

Draco was momentarily thrown. Hermione had a very pretty smile now, as an adult. Her whole face had lit up with joy.

He’d never seen her like that before. She’d never exactly ever smiled at him.

“I still don’t exactly see what’s in this for me,” he drawled. “And mother isn’t going to be pleased with me looting the Malfoy jewels to give someone for a fake relationship…”

“Oh! No no no no no!” Hermione shook her head vehemently. “I think I’ve explained it wrong. Maybe I was rushing through it. Let me start at the beginning.”

“That might me a good place to start,” Draco commented, smirking.

Hermione shot him an exasperated look, before drawing herself up.

“I’ve been working on mastering Alchemy,” she told him. “Part of that is-”

“Alchemy?” Draco interrupted, impressed. “That’s incredibly difficult. I thought you were getting your mastery in Arithmancy.”

“I am. I’m working on Alchemy as an independent study in my spare time. There’s no Alchemy masters left, and Alchemy is kind of a fringe field of study, anyway.” She paused, tilting her head. “…how did you know I was working on my mastery in Arithmancy?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “I hear things. I know things.”

He shrugged, and Hermione gave him a measuring look before continuing on.

“Anyway – my studies in Alchemy have lead me to discover the secrets of molecular alignment. I’m able to rearrange carbon atoms into perfect crystalline structures using arithmancy and runic diagrams, with only cheap starting materials.”

Draco gave her a blank look, and Hermione sighed.

“I’m able to make diamonds out of charcoal,” she clarified. “Of any size and clarity, practically.”

Draco’s eyes grew wide. “Oh.”

“ _Oh_ indeed,” Hermione said, smiling tightly. “But now we come upon the issue – diamonds don’t just come from nowhere. And it’s difficult to sell diamonds legitimately in the Muggle world – they’re the currency of the black market. And the goblins and wizarding jewelers will start to suspect something if the market is suddenly flooded with diamonds.”

“And this is where I come in?”

“Exactly,” Hermione said, nodding. “If we portray ourselves in a fake relationship, and you act besotted enough with me, people will presume any diamond jewelry I’m wearing is from the Malfoy vaults, or something you bought me. Then, when we ‘break up’, I can sell all the jewelry under the guise of ‘I don’t want any reminders of you’, and no one will suspect its origins.”

“Essentially, money-laundering your diamonds,” Draco said, comprehension dawning.

“Exactly.”

Draco folded his arms, looking at her carefully. Hermione had filled out since he’d last seen her – though, she’d been starved, exhausted, dirty, and bloody then. He hadn’t seen her in person for a couple years – why would he have?

But now she looked good. Healthy. Her hair was still wild, but in a less frizzy way than when she’d been younger. Her eyes were alight with excitement of her plan, and her stance was a confident (if tense) one. And she looked pretty, which was new – the robes she was wearing hinted at the curves of her bosom and her backside, both of which looked… nice.

Draco pulled his eyes back into his head and tried to refocus.

“You still haven’t told me what I get out of this scheme,” he said.

“A few things. One, you get valid social reaffirmation for the Malfoy name,” Hermione said, ticking things off on her name. “If you’re seen with me, people will presume that you’ve done enough to earn forgiveness and your way back into society. The Malfoy name will begin to have a more positive connotation to it again.”

Draco flinched, but it was true. The Malfoy name wasn’t exactly in as bad of a place as it had been two years ago, but it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of again.

“Two, it will show off the presumed Malfoy wealth,” Hermione said, glancing at him sideways. “If people see me flaunting diamonds that you’re presumably draping me in, they’re going to think you weren’t hurt as badly with reparations after the war as they’ve been thinking. That could get you more business, if people view you as a potential investor again.”

Draco carefully kept his face blank. The Malfoys _hadn’t_ been hurt as much by the reparations remanded as people thought they had. But Draco had kept that information close to his chest.

“Three, I can split the money from the sale of the diamonds with you afterwards,” Hermione said. “Not 50/50, but I’m sure we can come to some arrangement that would work for both of us.”

Draco nodded absently. “Is that all?”

Hermione’s eyes gleamed.

“Four and five,” she said, her eyes fiery. “It would drive Ron and Pansy absolutely _wild_ with rage.”

There was a pause, and a slow grin began to grow across Draco’s face.

“You, Granger, have yourself a deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Call me Hermione,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. She offered him a smile. “After all, we’re going to be madly in love with each other.”

“Hermione, then,” Draco said, testing it out.

“Good,” Hermione said. She smiled. “Thanks, Draco. This isn’t the simplest of plans, but it will make a world of difference to me. You might have fun with it, too.”

His heart skipped a beat, at her smiling up at him and calling him _Draco_. She really was beautiful when she was smiling at him – completely different than her disdainful glare he was more accustomed to seeing. 

He wondered if he could get her to smile more often.

~

Hermione had told him to make reservations at an expensive, very fancy place for dinner. It made sense to Draco – one couldn’t just go out wearing diamonds to get ice cream. He’d dutifully made the reservations and put on his best dress robes, all the while deflecting curious questions from his mother. He’d rather his mother find out from wizarding gossip rags rather than him – it’d add legitimacy to their game. It wasn’t like he frequently discussed his plans with her.

At quarter to seven, he Apparated to Hermione’s apartment, directly through the wards into her parlor.

Her home was much how he’d expected it to be, and Draco smirked as he looked around at the bookshelves covering nearly every available surface. Her coffee table itself was a small bookshelf laid on its side, it seemed. He snickered, wondering if her bed was a mattress laid atop two large ones.

There was a hiss, and Draco glanced down to see an orange cat. He raised an eyebrow at it, and the cat gave him a disdainful look, before flouncing off up the stairs.

“Well, hello to you too,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Draco? Is that you?” Hermione’s voice echoed down the stairs.

“Yes!” he called up to her.

“You’re early. Just a moment – I’ll be right down.”

Draco shrugged to himself and amused himself by perusing her bookshelves. She really did have a _lot_ of books. Her Alchemy collection was the most extensive he’d ever seen, and her Arithmancy collection looked second to none as well.

“Sorry to keep you waiting! I couldn’t find one of my shoes…”

Draco turned, and his mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

Hermione was wearing a sleek black dress that went down to her ankles but seemed to have slits up the side quite high. She had her hair up in a sort of fancy bun, with curls left out strategically to frame her face. Her face looked flushed, and her eyes looked different – darker, somehow --, and her lips shone.

But what took his breath away the most were the diamonds.

It was immediately apparent Hermione had gone with such a simple dress in order to feature the jewelry she was wearing. She wore a large diamond bib necklace, each jewel attached to others in a sort of tight spiderweb weave. And each jewel _glittered_ – these were no paste gems she wore. Matching diamond drop earrings hung from her ears, a few diamonds apiece on each one of fairly large size, and a tennis bracelet hung delicately from her right wrist as well.

Even in the fake Muggle lighting of her apartment, Hermione _shone_.

Abruptly, Draco caught himself staring, and quickly shut his gaping jaw.

“Ah- Hermione- you look-”

Hermione gave him a wry smile.

“I know it’s a lot,” she said, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. “But really, that’s kind of the _point_ – to be opulent with the jewels beyond all sense of reason.”

“I- well, I think you definitely accomplished that,” Draco said truthfully, and Hermione laughed. She stepped forward and took his arm, tennis bracelet glittering from her wrist.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Hermione told him, offering a smile up at him. Draco swallowed hard, and with a _CRACK_ , he Apparated them to their date.

~

The date, all in all, was actually going very well.

Draco hadn’t expected to have much in common with Hermione Granger, other than an apparent willingness to scheme. But she’d made conversation over the vintage of wine they’d ordered, and over dinner, when she’s inquired as to what he spent his time doing, she proved highly knowledgeable about business itself. Even if it was kind of annoying.

“I need _something_ ,” Draco snapped at her. “This acquisition will help bring a new revenue stream in.”

“They’re not _reliable_ ,” Hermione snapped back. “Everyone knows that Peterson can’t hire good employees to save his life, and their quality controls are all over the place. Potions aren’t even in your portfolio!”

“That’s why I’m going to _add_ them to it!”

“You can’t abruptly diversify that much if you want to maintain control and a cohesive brand,” Hermione said, shaking her head. She pointed at him with her fork. “Look – Malfoy Industries is mostly in property, rents, and wards, right? Then why don’t you buy up a couple rare ingredient farms first? See how much making potions actually costs from the backside before you just go buying up distributors. And if you still think you like it, _then_ you can either buy a place or start one, and you’ll already have a complete vertical chain of supply supporting you from behind.”

Draco stared at her as Hermione primly resumed eating her duck.

“…that’s actually a really good idea,” he admitted.

Hermione shot him a smirk, and tossed her head, setting all the diamonds off glittering in the candlelight once again.

“You may have heard, Malfoy, but I’m known for being smart,” she said, grinning. “I’m kind of a big deal.”

Draco laughed, and she laughed with him, both of them caught in the simplicity of the moment, enjoying each other’s company.

After the date, after Draco had escorted her home, her hand warm on his arm once more, he lay in his bed, thinking back over it all.

It was odd. Despite the thousands of galleons worth of diamonds glittering all over her, what he remembered most was the joy and amusement glittering in her eyes.

~

“What is _this??_ ”

A magazine plopped down onto his coffee, and Draco winced as a shrill voice pierced his ears.

He slowly looked up to see Pansy Parkinson, face red and flushed with rage. She was dressed in a heavy fur coat – a bit _much_ for outside in Diagon Alley. He was wearing a heavy overcoat himself. It wasn’t as if breakfast in the alley was a societal event.

“It appears to be a magazine, Pansy,” Draco drawled. “Have you forgotten what those are? They’re the ones thinner than books.”

Pansy’s face purpled with rage, and she snatched the magazine off his cup, ignoring the splattering from the corner that had fallen into his coffee.

“I mean _this!_ ” she snarled, pushing the cover into his face. “Since when are you dating the Mudblood Queen?”

“Language,” snapped Draco. “We’re past that now, aren’t we?”

“Muggle-born Queen, then. Since _when_ , Draco?”

“It’s a relatively new development,” Draco drawled, looking supremely unconcerned. “Why? Does it somehow pertain to you?”

“ _Pertain_ to me? Draco, we dated for nearly a year, and the most you gave me was an _amethyst necklace!_ ” she snarled. “But you’re already draping _her_ in the family jewels? Does your _mother_ know what you’re doing?”

“Oh, Draco!”

Draco turned to see Hermione hurrying toward him, dressed in a cute white coat and Gryffindor scarf. She smiled at him, and he felt his heart skip a beat as he smiled back.

“Hermione,” he said, standing. Instead of offering him her hand to kiss, she stepped closer, kissing his cheek and lingering a moment, before sitting down across from him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, unwinding the scarf from her neck. “I got an important owl just before I was about to leave, and I had to scribble a response before I could take off.”

“That’s quite alright,” Draco said graciously. He watched Pansy out of the corner of his eye, who seemed to be shaking with rage. Internally, he couldn’t stop smirking – he’d never known Granger could lie with any sort of believability before. But Pansy seemed to be eating it up – she actually thought they’d planned a breakfast date together.

“Oh, is this Pansy?” Hermione said finally, looking up at her. She offered her a smile. “How good to see you. I haven’t seen you since school.”

Pansy just looked at her, then glared at Draco.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, her voice sounding sincere. “Did I interrupt a private conversation? Should I step away for a moment?”

“No,” Draco said automatically, reaching out to catch her hand from across the table “Stay.”

Hermione looked down at his hand, then up at him. Draco flushed, and pulled his hand away.

“We were just talking,” Pansy said snippily, “about Draco’s gifts to you.”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione lit up. “Isn’t this lovely? I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was, but Draco insisted.”

She was holding up a new necklace, and Draco saw Pansy’s mouth drop open.

“Is that…?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, nodding. “I didn’t even _know_ diamonds could come in such a brilliant orange! I love the teardrop cut – and it’s just the right size to wear as a singular piece for work, and not be too ostentatious.”

She was holding the pendant aloft, and Draco could see it catching the sunlight now, glittering a brilliant orange. It was _enormous_ – at least 15 carats, if not 20.

Draco fought not to gape. He _knew_ precious stones and jewelry – his mother had taught him as he’d grown, showing him each piece of jewelry she wore before an event, teaching him what it was and what it was worth. A diamond of that color and that _size_ …

That’d be worth at _least_ three million galleons at auction, if not more.

Hermione was offering Pansy a friendly smile. There was a tense standoff, and Pansy stormed off, leaving the coffee-stained magazine behind her.

“That was brilliant,” Draco told Hermione honestly. “Thanks for the sudden rescue.”

“Pansy is a snotty bitch,” Hermione said pleasantly. “She teased me something awful back at Hogwarts. Believe me – it was me _pleasure._ ”

Draco laughed, and he waved over a waiter. Hermione looked pleased as she gave an order for a hot chocolate and a croissant, and Draco smiled at her. She smiled back, and Draco felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t know how you can possibly think that’s not ostentatious,” he told her, gesturing to her pendant. “That’s nearly obscene, how much that’d be worth.”

“I’m playing on the ‘uneducated Muggle-born from lower society’ card,” Hermione said, crossing her legs and flashing him a grin. “To someone more cultured, they’ll know what it’s worth, but to me? It’s such a pretty gift.”

She batted her eyelashes at him and laughed, before taking the magazine off the table and flipping through it.

“This isn’t bad,” she said approvingly. “Look, here – it’s captured us smiling at each other, as well as the glitter of all the diamonds as I move. It looks like we’re actually enraptured with each other here, doesn’t it?”

Draco nodded in agreement, watching the dancing joy in her eyes.

“Right,” he said, his mouth dry. “Like we actually fancy each other.”

Hermione beamed at him. “Exactly.”

His heart fluttered again in his chest.

~

“Draco, what is _going on?_ ”

“Nothing, mother. _Nothing_.”

“I _know_ those aren’t family pieces, Draco!” Narcissa Malfoy threw down the society pages next to him, frustrated. “What have you been _buying_ her? We’re not _made_ of gold, you know!”

“I _haven’t_ , mother! They’re hers!”

Narcissa abruptly stopped her tirade, her eyes narrowing.

“They’re _hers?_ ”

“Yes,” Draco admitted.

There was a pause.

“That Muggle-born has jewelry like _that?_ ”

“She does,” Draco said. “But she wants everyone to think that I’ve given them to her. She doesn’t people to know where she really got them.”

“Where _did_ she get them?” Narcissa wanted to know. “I’ve never seen anything like these before. _Beautiful_ pieces to wear for winter, but they are a _lot._ ”

“She’s making them,” Draco told her. “Alchemy. She’s mastered diamond construction. She wants us to stage a breakup eventually, and then she’ll sell them off under the guise of not wanting any reminders of me.”

Narcissa looked at her son, her eyes considering.

“And you are part of this scheme of hers.”

“It seemed a good way to get us positive press,” Draco said, swallowing hard. “Having the Princess of the Golden Trio on my arm makes it obvious she’s publicly forgiven me for my sins in the war. The diamonds make us seem stronger as a family, less in the disgrace than people presume from the reparations we had to pay.”

Narcissa sat down on the fainting sofa, primly crossing her ankles.

“And are you enjoying your time with Miss Granger?” she said carefully.

Draco shot a dark look at her.

“It’s going _fine_ , mother,” he said, gritting her teeth. “It’s all going according to plan.”

“I was just inquiring as to the quality of her company,” Narcissa said, summoning a House Elf for tea. “If you must pretend to date her, you must be forced to converse with her. Tell me: do you have much in common?”

A memory of Hemione laughing from across the table came to mind, and Draco’s face softened.

“She’s actually quite charming, and very cunning,” he admitted to his mother. “She can scheme for Slytherin; I’m sure the only reason she didn’t get into our house was the blood-status issue.”

“She’s quite pretty too, from what I can tell,” Narcissa said, looking down at the society pages again.

“Yeah, well, the diamonds help,” Draco said dryly. “She had diamond straps on her _heels_ last time.”

“But _she_ is quite beautiful, is she not?”

Narcissa watched her son, but Draco didn’t respond. She abruptly stood up.

“Shame she can only make diamonds,” she remarked. “She’d look gorgeous in sapphires, with her skin tones.”

She swept into the parlor proper for tea, leaving Draco to look at the picture of Hermione in the paper. She waved up at him happily, and Draco watched her, not moving for a long time, as a plan began to percolate in his mind.

~

“I- what is this?”

“It’s a necklace,” Draco said impatiently. “I had thought that would be obvious.”

Hermione was still looking at him in confusion. Draco internally winced.

“But Draco, the whole point of this is to showcase as many pieces that I’ve made as possible-”

“I understand that,” Draco said quickly. “But don’t you think you should wear a few of the more well-known Malfoy pieces, too? To make sure people are taking this seriously as a legitimate relationship?”

Hermione looked unsure, and Draco pushed ahead.

“I mean, the diamonds are beautiful, but there’s something to be said for the brilliant colors of sapphires and emeralds,” he said, holding up the necklace. “And this is a well-known Malfoy piece. It will add significance to everything, you being seen in it.”

Hermione looked like she was considering.

“Sapphires are for spring,” he said, offering a teasing smile. “It can’t hurt, can it?”

She gave him an amused look, before she sighed.

“You’re right, of course,” she said. “This is probably wise. Put it on me?”

She turned around, lifting her hair, and Draco’s throat dried.

Her neck was soft, elegant, and he could smell her hair as he moved closer, undoing the necklace she’d made for tonight. He wordlessly dropped it in her palm, before putting the Malfoy jewels over her head and clasping the platinum behind her neck.

“There,” he said, his throat dry. He coughed. “There. All done.”

Hermione turned to look in the mirror, and he was relieved to see her smile.

“There really are very pretty,” she said, leaning closer. “I wish I knew how to make these.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there in time,” Draco said, doing his best to keep his tone casual. It was best she not know what seeing her in Malfoy family jewels was doing to him inside. “Are you ready?”

She gave him a happy smile, stepped forward, and took his arm. “Let’s go.”

He waited for his fluttering heart to settle before Apparating them away with a _CRACK_.

~

The entire length of their “relationship,” Draco had been anxious.

For one, he was anxious about when Hermione would announce they were done. He had no idea when it was going to happen – not even a clue – and he was growing more and more tense about the entire situation and the idea of not seeing her again.

The second, reason, though, was the big one.

They still hadn’t run into Weasley yet.

Hermione had mentioned that Ron was probably off on a big Auror stakeout mission or something, and that he’d be sure to notice eventually. She’d seemed casually dismissive of the issue, utterly unconcerned, but Draco remembered Weasley’s infamous temper from Hogwarts, and he was sure it wasn’t going to go well.

Potter had been a surprise. They’d run into him at a Ministry event that Draco had taken Hermione too – it’s not like he could have taken someone _else_ , after all – and he had stopped short at seeing Hermione on Draco’s arm.

Potter had given Draco a hard look, before he looked Hermione up and down. She’d worn a glittering diamond choker and diamond cuff that night, as well as colored jeweled belt Draco had managed to convince her into. Potter had looked at him, looked at Hermione, and looked at him, before nodding once, curtly, and moving away.

Draco was convinced that Potter was onto their scheme. Hermione kept trying to reassure him that even if Harry _had_ figured it out, it didn’t matter – he wouldn’t be about to tell anyone.

So Potter had been checked off. But _Weasley_ …

It was at a formal Weasley brunch, during May, when it finally happened, in the backyard. Fleur and Bill had called everyone to announce that they were pregnant again – a little boy, this time – and the brunch was a nice celebration for everybody to mingle and talk and visit afterward.

Draco had been carefully considering if he wanted eggs or to just stick with hotcakes when he’d heard his name.

“MALFOY!”

He turned quickly, only to see the threat was across the yard.

It seemed that Weasley had finally deigned to return to Britain from whatever hole he’d been hiding in and had opted to announce his return by yelling loudly at Hermione in the middle of the yard. Draco quickly strode over, covering the distance rapidly.

“-be happy for me, Ron!”

“It’s MALFOY!” Weasley yelled at her. “I can’t believe you! And just _look_ at you!”

He held up her arm, where a bracelet of emeralds dangled. He sneered at her, and Draco was taken aback at the look of hatred there.

“Just look at you – clad in diamonds and emeralds,” he spat. “He’s _buying_ you, Hermione. You’re a Death Eater’s whore.”

Draco saw red, and the next thing he knew, Hermione was gasping and healing his bloody fist, and Weasley was knocked out cold on the ground, his face punched in, his nose _definitely_ broken.

“That really wasn’t necessary,” Hermione told him quietly, leading him off to the side as Mrs. Weasley and some of the brothers helped Ron. “That’s just how he is.”

“’That’s just how he is’?” Draco said incredulously. “Hermione, did you _hear_ what he called you?”

Hermione bit her lip. “Ron just loses his temper, and he says things he doesn’t mean when he’s angry. He’s always sorry afterwards, when he calms down.”

“Oh, like _that_ makes it okay,” Draco snorted.

“Look, I _know_ it’s not okay,” Hermione said, looking away. “It was one of the reasons we broke up. I’m just saying I’m _used_ to it, is all. I can handle the nasty names thrown my way.”

“You shouldn’t _have_ to,” Draco said strongly. “Hermione…”

He sat her down on the edge of a tall flower bed and knelt on the ground in front of her, his eyes holding hers. He heard her breath catch.

“Hermione,” he said, holding her eyes, “while you’re with me, no one will call you names. I will defend you if I am there, and I will ruin them if I hear about it afterward.”

“You are amazing,” he continued. “And I will not let anyone else tell you differently. Understand?”

Hermione sniffed, and Draco realized she was crying. She nodded, and Draco sat next to her, pulling her into him, wrapping an arm around her form. He let her cry quietly against his chest for a while, just rubbing her back quietly.

Eventually, the tears subsided into sniffles, but somehow neither of them moved from their position for a long, long time.

~

They kept it going. Each date, Hermione had some new piece of jewelry to flash to the press. Oftentimes, Draco would convince her to incorporate in a piece of Malfoy jewelry, to “balance things out”.

And each date, Draco felt himself getting more and more drawn in by Hermione. She was witty, she was fun, she was charming, and she was enchanting to be around. He found excuses to have more dates with her, or to extend the ones they were on, wanting the conversation to never end. At the end of each date, he’d escort her home, offer her a bow like a gentleman, and retire to his own room, images of her laughing and smiling dancing through his head.

And so they kept dating.

Draco carefully never mentioned how Hermione had said it would eventually end.

~

 

“So when is this ending, Draco?”

“I don’t _know,_ Mother! She hasn’t told me!” Draco said, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “We never set out a strict timeline. I guess after she appears in public with all the pieces she wants to sell?”

“It’s been _months_ , Draco. It’s already the end of summer. And you are a young man in his prime – you are wasting time and blocking yourself from other offers by dallying around with this one.”

“I don’t _want_ to court anyone else, mother!” Draco snarled, pacing around the parlor. “I-”

“Then at least come to an arrangement with _this_ girl,” Narcissa said, sipping her tea, ignoring his caustic tone. “I’m not getting any younger, and neither are you. You have the next generation of Malfoys to think of.”

Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

“ _Next generation?”_ he said incredulously.

“Mm,” his mother agreed. “I was already married and trying for you when I was your age. And it can take years to have a pregnancy that sticks.”

He stared at her.

“You want me to have a child,” he said slowly, “with _Hermione?_ ”

“I don’t particularly care with _whom,_ so long as they’re suitable and you’re quick about it,” Narcissa sniffed. “You seem to enjoy her company, and she’s a lovely girl. Very smart. And you’ve been courting her for months, now, which is important – I’d hate to have a grandchild born of wedlock.”

“I- mother, it’s not a _real_ courtship!”

“Do you go on dates with her?” his mother asked, sipping her tea.

“I- yes-”

“And do you talk with her on these dates?” she continued. “Discuss your opinions? Share personal things?”

Draco’s mind flashed back to Hermione quietly admitting the truth about her parents to him the previous night, and how he’d held her close in front of the club’s fireplace as she spoke, offering her what comfort he could.

“Yes…”

“And do you want her?” Narcissa said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you like her? Have you come to care for the girl?”

Draco’s heart pounded madly in his chest.

“I- Mother, that’s not the point!”

“Oh?” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Than what is?”

“The point _is_ , this entire relationship is rigged! None of it is real!”

“It may have started out that way, but it certainly seems real now,” Narcissa commented. “Your feelings are real enough now, are they not?”

Draco winced, but didn’t deny it.

“How are you sure that hers have not changed as well?” she insisted. “You’re still dating her, are you not? Surely this charade would have ended by now if she wanted it to?”

Draco paused.

“It’s possible,” Narcissa said firmly. “You are a charming, handsome, and well-off young man. There is no reason she would not like you.”

“So what do I do?” Draco said dully. “Admit to her that I like her, and hope she feels the same?”

Narcissa gave him a disgusted look.

“Of course not,” she said, sniffing. “We are _Slytherins_ , Draco. There are ways for these things.”

~

Unfortunately, Narcissa’s usual methods for obtaining gossip were somewhat powerless in the face of Hermione Granger. Hermione didn’t attend society teas, and gossip about her feeling wasn’t likely to reach Narcissa, as they ran in different circles.

So it was Disillusioned that Draco followed Hermione around Diagon Alley one day, to see if he could detect any inkling of her feelings. Dreamy sighs, sketching out a calendar on a napkin at lunch – _anything_. Draco was a bit desperate, and he knew it. But needs must.

Most of her errands were accomplished quickly – the Apothecary for ingredients, the Magical Menagerie for cat treats, Scivenshaft’s for ink and parchment. She went to Flourish and Blott’s last, which surprised Draco precisely zero – he’d figured she’d want to spend the most time there.

Unfortunately, a gust of wind blew particularly hard just as she entered, shutting the door before he had time to slip in after her. He swore, glaring at the door, and he had to wait a few minutes before a patron entered, and Draco impatiently swept past the old man.

His eyes scanned the stacks for Hermione. Where had she gone? There were a lot of shelves, and with a silent curse, he started down one of the rows, scanning over the books and listening as best he could.

“-see you out and about, ‘Mione!”

Draco froze.

“Sorry, Ginny. You know I’ve been busy. Arithmancy mastery, you know.”

Draco carefully pushed a large book out of the way. He could see the back of Hermione and her curls, and the Weaselette’s expression, if he crouched down a bit to peek.

“Oh, peacock, Hermione. The last time I was over, you were covered in charcoal and chalk. Now tell me: what’s really going on?”

Hermione’s shoulders visibly slumped, and Draco had the urge to simultaneously curse the Weaslette for upsetting her and go to comfort Hermione.

“…have to,” Hermione was saying. “You don’t understand.”

“Hermione…” Ginny’s voice was full of emotion.

“If I run out of pieces, there’s no reason to keep going.” Hermione’s voice was dull, a lifeless quality to it. “Unless I have more jewelry he hasn’t seen, that I could ostensibly sell, he’ll wonder what I’m still doing there, and he’ll end it.”

“Hermione… he won’t…”

“He _will_.” Hermione’s tone was vicious. “As he well _should_. That was the original agreement, after all.”

Ginny’s face was torn. “But ‘Mione… if you just tell him how you feel…”

Hermione laughed hollowly. “Oh, yes, that’s sure to go well. ‘Hi, Draco. How are you? By the way, I’ve fallen desperately in love with you. Would you terribly mind abandoning your prestigious family legacy for me instead?”

“It’s not like that,” Ginny insisted. “You didn’t see his face when he went after Ron. He looked like he was ready to kill him for insulting you.”

“He’s nothing if not a gentleman,” Hermione said quietly. “Ginny, did you know afterward, he took me aside, got down on his knee, and promised to protect me?”

“He _did?_ Surely that’s a good sign!”

“It was…” Hermione sighed. “For half a second, when he got down on his knee…”

Ginny gasped.

“You didn’t think… he didn’t…”

“Of course he didn’t,” Hermione snapped. “But how was I to know how Pureblood make promises to each other? I looked it up afterwards.” Her voice quieted. “I didn’t think he was, truly. But… part of me had hoped.”

There was a sad silence, and then Ginny started to giggle.

“What?” Hermione’s voice was annoyed. “ _What_ is so funny about this to you?”

“Oh, it’s just… Hermione….” Ginny giggled. “Even if he _did_ propose, what would he possibly propose _with?_ ” She gestured at her. “You’ve got more diamonds than anyone else in the world.”

There was a pause, and Hermione started to giggle too.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, her tone lifting. “Anyway, enough sad talk – I’ll kill you if you make me cry on my first trip to the bookstore in weeks. And I have to go back soon, anyway; there’s an earring set to finish, and then I’m making a special dress for the Halloween ball.”

“You? Making a _dress?_ ”

“Yes. It’s _special_ , okay? Now move – I need that shelf.”

The two girls moved off, Hermione murmuring quietly about books she needed and Ministry people expected to attend the ball, until they faded from sight.

Draco stood very still, his heart pounding, her voice echoing in his ears.

_I’ve fallen desperately in love with you…_

_Fallen desperately in love with you…_

_Fallen in love with you…_

He didn’t move for a long time.

But when he did, it was to smile.

~

Draco was ready. His mother was still fussing with his cravat, but Draco felt more ready than he’d ever felt.

“I’m still impressed you’ve handled this so appropriately,” she told him, tying a knot. “Even Lucius and I had snuck a kiss during our courtship period. To withstand such desire and maintain such decorum…”

“It’s nothing,” Draco said, dismissive. He stepped back from her. “Mother, how do I look?”

Narcissa looked him up and down.

“I don’t know if I’d give you Ptolemy, but it’s at least obviously a costume,” she acknowledged. “Good enough. Better that you look your best, than worry about this Muggle costume nonsense.”

Later, as his mother was receiving everyone, Draco drifted in and out, greeting people while he waited for her.

“She’s got to be so nervous,” he murmured to his mother, in between guests. “She’s never met you, not properly. And she was expecting the ball to be held at the Ministry.”

“Nonsense. We met at the World Cup. And to have a _Ball_ at the _Ministry?_ How classless…”

Draco left his mother again, drifting about, looking for Hermione. He’d had to arrange to meet her here – he couldn’t leave when he was helping host things. She’d agreed, and had seemed almost _glad_ at it.

Everyone else seemed to be having a good time, at least. People were talking, others were dancing, and the waiters were circling the room with hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes. Draco took one and drained it quickly. Where was she?

Behind him, there was a murmur of voices, and he turned, and there she was.

Her hair was half up, enough to hold a dazzling tiara, but the rest was left down, her curls brushing her shoulders. Her eyes met his, and her smile was soft, shy. Draco was surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a necklace this time, only to realize why a moment later.

She was dressed in black silk – a large, black ballgown with an A-line cut. And on the silk were diamonds.

Diamonds.

Hundreds of them.

They glittered in the ballroom lighting, and as Draco stepped closer to her, he realized that some of the diamonds were somewhat bigger than the others. And that some… it seemed familiar…

His memory caught just as he reached her, and his heart stopped.

“Draco,” Hermione said, offering him a smile and a curtsy. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hermione…” Draco could hear his voice was deep, breathy. “Hermione, you…”

Hermione looked up at him, and he caught her gaze, holding it, warm brown meeting silver.

“Hermione,” he said finally. “You dressed as me.”

Hermione looked down at her dress, and Draco looked with her. Now that he knew, it was so much more obvious to him. How could he have missed it?

Hermione looked back up at him, giving him a tentative smile.

“Technically, I’m supposed to be the night sky,” she told him.

“You’ve put Draco front and center,” he said.

Her eyes softened.

“Well, that’s only right, don’t you think?” she said. “You’re a large part of my life.”

His throat closed, heavy with emotion, and his heart thudded hard in his chest, and he wordlessly offered her his hand and swept her away.

Hermione’s dress was the talk of the ball. The glittering diamonds of constellations she’d painstakingly sewed on were incredible, and she shone like the stars she’d so carefully emulated. Draco barely remembered the rest of the ball, it passed by in such a whirlwind. He remembered briefly introducing Hermione to his mother, who’d said very gracious things, but he’d barely been able to take his eyes from Hermione, his arm around her waist the whole time to comfort her.

They danced – oh, they danced. He swept her around the ballroom like a princess, his eyes never leaving her. They laughed and talked quietly with each other, and Draco could tell now, could see when her eyes would soften at him, and he knew that his must do the same. He could see the hope in her gaze, the hope she seemed to be trying to set aside, but Draco _knew_ , now. How could he not? She’d come dressed as _him_ , as the stars he was named for. How could he not have known…?

After much dancing, Draco could tell Hermione was somewhat overheated, and he offered to escort her outside to the gardens, which she gratefully accepted. The gardens were illuminated softly by fairy lights, and the roses were blooming. He guided her over to a bench and helped her sit, and she smiled up at him gratefully.

“Tonight has been incredible,” she told him honestly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Draco said. He sat down next to her, facing his knees toward her. “Hermione, we need to talk.”

Draco could see her close her eyes for a long moment, take a long, deep breath, steadying herself, and when she opened her eyes, he could tell she was prepared for the worst.

“Okay,” she said quietly, a veil over her eyes. “What is it, Draco?”

“I’m afraid I’ve ruined your plan,” he told her.

Hermione blinked. “You have?”

“I have,” he told her gravely.

“How?”

“You plan to sell off your diamonds,” he told her. “The plan was for you to sell off all your diamonds once we broke up.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “Yes…”

“That won’t be happening,” he told her. He took her hands in hers, looking directly at her. “Hermione…” His voice was soft. “I don’t want us to break up. Ever.”

Hermione sucked in her breath, her eyes growing large.

“It may have started as a farce, but Hermione, my feelings for you are nothing if not real,” Draco told her honestly. “I don’t know when it started, but I know that I’ve been falling more and more in love with you, and you now hold the entirety of my heart. I don’t know what your plan with the diamonds will be anymore, but Hermione… I can’t let you go.”

Slowly, Draco knelt down on one knee, holding her eyes. He could see Hermione’s breath catch in her chest, and she was breathing heavily.

“Draco…” she said, her voice wobbly. “Are you…”

Draco pulled a blue velvet box from his waistcoat pocket. He opened it, and he watched emotions play across Hermione’s face as comprehension and hope warred wildly with self-doubt.

“Hermione Granger,” he said, taking her hand, holding the box in the other, “would you do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

Hermione started crying, soundless tears glittering down her cheeks.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, Draco. _Yes!_ ”

Draco smiled at her, from the bottom of his heart, and he took out the ring and slipped it onto her finger.

“I didn’t go with a diamond,” he told her. “It seemed too trivial, at this point, to give to you. But a star sapphire… a reminder that you are the star of my sky, the light of my life… that seemed more appropriate.”

Hermione stood.

“Draco,” she said, pulling him to his feet. “I don’t care _what_ gems you give me, so long as you give me you-!”

She pulled his head down to meet hers, and his lips met hers in a deep kiss. Draco let his eyes close, swept up in the feel of her pressed to him, her lips on his, the sweeping feeling of emotions in his heart and throat at her ‘yes’. When she pulled away, Draco was surprised to find that his eyes were leaking a bit too, and they both laughed quietly. Draco produced a handkerchief and wiped his eyes, before gently cupping Hermione’s cheek and cleaning off her own tear tracks.

“Draco,” Hermione said, her eyes meeting his. “Draco, I love you too.”

“I know you do,” Draco said, letting his hand linger on her cheek. “You wore a dress with me made of diamonds. I’m not that oblivious.”

He smirked as she blushed, but her eyes held his.

“No, I mean- I’ve loved you for a while,” she told him. “For months, now. I’ve kept this charade of a courtship going because I didn’t want to let you go.”

“I know,” he told her. “I overheard you telling Weaselette in the bookstore a month ago.”

Hermione gasped. “You were eavesdropping on me? Draco-!”

Draco leaned forward and kissed her deeply, effectively quieting her objections. She relaxed into his arms after a moment, before she let out a soft moan into the kiss, twining her own arms around him.

They were both breathing a bit hard when the broke apart.

“I needed to overhear,” Draco told her quietly, playing with a curl near her cheek. “I was going mad, wondering which date would be our last, which date I’d have my heart broken on. You have no idea how badly I needed to know I wasn’t alone in this.”

Hermione’s eyes were soft.

“You’re not alone in this,” she told him, laying a hand on top of his. “You’ll never be alone again, now.”

Draco’s heart swelled, and he leaned down to kiss her again.

“I’m going to presume she said yes, if you’re finally kissing her.”

The loud voice of his mother from the doorway startled Draco, and he quickly moved away from Hermione’s face, though he kept his arm around her. He could see Hermione blushing deeply, while his mother looked evaluating.

“Well?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Did the maiden say yes?”

“Um,” Draco said. “Yes. She did.”

Narcissa’s face softened into a smile.

“Good,” she said. She addressed Hermione. “You make him happy. I’ve been glad to see it, these past months.”

Hermione smiled up at Draco. “He makes me happy, too.”

“Now,” Narcissa said, clapping her hands. “The ball is almost over. If you would, this would be the time to make the announcement…?”

Hermione laughed and took Draco’s arm, and Draco could feel himself unable to stop beaming as he led her back into the Manor.

After the announcement, there was a lot of cheering, Hermione was blushing, and Draco couldn’t stop his proud smile as he looked around. The musicians took up a celebratory tune, and Potter claimed Hermione for the dance to be the first to congratulate her. Draco watched on from the side, proud, as she laughed and danced, her joy sparkling in her eyes.

His mother silently stepped up behind him.

“She is going to be a beautiful bride,” she commented. “Look what she did herself with her gown tonight. Can you imagine when she has the help of our House Elves sewing all her diamonds onto a wedding dress? She will be breathtaking.”

Draco looked out at his fiancée, being swept around the dance floor. Hermione caught him looking and beamed at him, and he offered her a small smile back.

“She already is, mother,” he said. “She already is.”

 

 


End file.
